


Rude

by BloodDrenchedRose



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e21 Snow Drifts, F/M, Family, Marriage Proposal, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 14:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodDrenchedRose/pseuds/BloodDrenchedRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fanfiction inspired by the song "Rude" by Magic. How did Moe give consent for the wedding so easily? Something had to have sparked that decision...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rude

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic based on the song "Rude" by Magic!. I was listening to this song on the way home from my sister's house, and I burst into laughter at the imagery that came to mind.
> 
> Some dialogue from Episode 3.21 is at the end of it. Let me just go ahead and say that this section of events does not belong to me, but ABC.

His eyes slid open as the Saturday morning sunshine streamed through the window. Glancing at the woman sleeping next to him, he couldn’t help but grin at how lucky he was to have her in his life. His beauty. Planting a kiss to her hair and reluctantly resisting the tiny moan given to him in response, he climbed out of bed to prepare for his day.

The night before, Gold had asked the love of his life to marry him. Joy welled up within him as he remembered her tearful agreement. Nothing could dampen his spirts.

Well…almost nothing.

The magical pawnbroker sighed in defeat as a single thought crossed his mind. Back in the Enchanted Forest, it was customary for the husband-to-be to gain consent from the bride’s father. The dark part of himself wanted to do away with that tradition, but the man in him realized that it’s what his Belle would want. Being a sucker for her warm smiles and any affection she wished to bestow upon him, Gold realized that he had no choice but to go and visit one Moe French.

It didn’t take him long to find his best suit, a nice black one with a burgundy shirt and a tie of the same color with black and gold designs on it. Yes, he always dressed himself in the finest clothes, but this was one with better quality. He grabbed his hooked cane and casually loped down the stairs, then stopped in the kitchen to pen a note for his beloved in case she woke up before he returned.

_My dear Belle,_

_I’ll be out for a while. Be back soon._

_I love you._

_Forever and always,_

_Rumple_

Satisfied with the result, he turned his attention towards the front door and smiled grimly. “Well,” he muttered to no one in particular, “let’s get this over with.”

*~*~*

Gold climbed out of his Cadillac as soon as he reached the florist’s shop. If memory served him right (and it should since he collects rent from here), there is a tiny apartment right above the shop where Belle used to live with her father. Now the old man had it to himself, but that wasn’t going so well. To be honest, Moe would have lost his home by now, but the one thing that kept him from doing that was the thought of what Belle would say.

She would probably beg for that brainless numbskull to live with them for a while.

“Not going to happen, dearie,” he mumbled under his breath.

After a few more moments of waiting and debating his next move, Gold exhaled a deep breath and limped towards the red door leading to Game of Thorns. If he was going to do this, it better be now. There was no use in waiting any longer.

He rapped his knuckles, waiting patiently for a response. It wasn’t long before the door opened and a portly man poked his head out. The florist took one look at Gold and paled. “Oh, hell no!” he muttered, already moving to shut the door again.

Gold positioned his cane in between the door and the jamb, effectively propping it open. “Not so fast, Mr. French. We need to discuss something.”

“Whatever it is can wait!”

“It’s about your daughter.”

After a brief hesitation, the door opened again for him to be faced with a glower. “If you hurt her—”

“Now why would I do such a thing?” Gold interrupted.

Moe’s gears in his head started clanking as though it’d been a while since they’d last been used. He finally opened the door wider and gestured the businessman in. “Make it quick,” he mumbled.

By the time they climbed up the stairs to the tiny apartment and sat down, Gold’s knee was spasming. He cursed himself for going through with this ordeal. But it was for Belle. He’d do anything for her, even if it meant going behind her back (which he sometimes regretted even though it was for the best).

No offers for a drink or a snack where given, but that was to be expected given the relationship the two men had. Moe would rather see Gold killed. Gold desperately wanted the same. Both resisted the urge because of the same woman, though most days Gold just wanted to get rid of the one thing getting in the way of their happiness. His dark side was barely caged in, and the mere thought of bloodshed made his inner imp giggle with glee. Alas, twas not meant to be.

Since no one had said a word in the past five minutes, Gold decided to take it upon himself to speak first. “I asked Belle to marry me.”

“WHAT?!” the fat man bellowed.

“No need to give yourself a stroke, Mr. French. Now…can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?” Say yes. Say yes.

“Why?”

“Because I need to know,” was the smart-ass answer that came out.

Moe’s eyes flashed in rage. He stood up from his chair to march over to the Dark One, anger wafting off of him like the smell of rotten eggs in a blender. “You’ll never get my blessing until the day I die.”

_I can arrange that._

“Tough luck, my friend, but the answer is no.”

Gold shrugged his shoulders, knowing this was to be expected. “I hate to do this, but you leave me no choice. I can’t live without her.”

“You did fine on your own until you took her away from me!”

He chose to ignore that. “Or we could run away. You know she’s in love with me,” he taunted. “Belle will go anywhere I go.”

“Like hell she will,” the florist grumbled.

“Now…let’s try this again. Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?”

“And I’ll say _this_ again: the answer’s still no!”

His control on his anger snapped. He’s tried to be a good man, but enough is enough. Gold stood up, lifting his cane to prod his soon-to-be father-in-law back into his chair. “Why do you have to be so rude?” he drawled, bringing the walking stick up until it pressed into Moe’s throat.

“You’re a beast!” the other man choked out.

“Belle doesn’t seem to think so. In fact, according to her, I’m human, too.”

“You’ve brainwashed her.”

Gold added pressure to the florist’s throat. “You know what, Mr. French? I’m going to marry her anyway. I’ve tried being nice. But it doesn’t matter what you say. Belle will be my wife because I love her. We’ll be a family. And if you try to stop me from marrying her,” he said before letting out an evil chuckle, “I will make it where you’re begging me to kill you. Are we clear?”

Moe’s face had paled, his eyes shining in fear. A croaked “yes” came from the man’s throat before Gold allowed him to breathe again.

“Good.” The businessman turned for the door. “It’s nice doing business with you.”

*~*~*

She grinned proudly as she clasped his hands in her own. “Oh, I—I told my father the good news, and he gave us his blessing.”

He tried to hide his smirk of success and went for playing dumb. “The man who kidnapped you in order to keep us apart.”

“Well, I’ve forgiven him, and he’s forgiven you. He knows you’re a changed man. I mean, everyone does. Especially me.”

Ah, so their little talk had worked. He had been wondering what the response would be. Frankly, he was hoping Moe would deny the fact they were getting married. Anything to put him in the hospital again.

Gold returned Belle’s grin, and he leaned forward to kiss her, unable to express how much she meant to him in words. What mattered most was the fact that they would be together forever, even if a few threats had to be made.

 _You made the right choice, Moe,_ he thought to himself. _You made the right choice._


End file.
